Anger Management
by Hajime Morikawa
Summary: After a very long time of violent behavior and terrorizing the male operatives, physically and otherwise, our favorite Head of Decommissioning finally lands herself a place in Anger Management.


**Anger Management**

There were very few things that could rile Francine Fulbright up. One might raise an eyebrow in skepticism at that, but it was true. Her face wasn't always in a permanent scowl, her eyebrows weren't always scrunched together, her mouth wasn't always turned downwards and her Irish brogue wasn't always bordering between extremely irritated and extremely annoyed. All in all, she was a pretty mild-mannered person.

Hard to believe, but it was true nonetheless; it wasn't her fault that she was constantly surrounded by the _few_ things that annoyed her.

Just like it wasn't her fault that her line of work put her in contact with the _few_ things that irritated her twenty four-seven.

So, imagine her shock when she got called into Rachel's office one day, the very minute she stepped through the front doors of KND Lunar Headquarters. "You wanted to see me, Numbuh 362?" she asked, entering the office.

The Supreme Leader in question wearily looked up from her hands, which were intertwined and covering her eyes at the moment, to look witheringly at Fanny.

"Sit down," she ordered.

Fanny did so, somehow getting the feeling that this wasn't going to end well. Rachel pulled out a file from her drawer and slapped it with uncharacteristic heat in front of the Head of Decommissioning.

"Care to explain this?" Rachel demanded. Fanny looked own at the file, which basically was a report that detailed the most recent locker-smashing, Falcon-fist-Punching, butt-whooping, furniture-wrecking fiasco with a certain Nigel Uno of Sector V.

"Numbuh 362, ma'am," Fanny began. "Allow me to say that this was purely circumstantial; Numbuh 1 was strutting around the place as usual, and –"

"This is the seventh time that this has happened!!" Rachel burst out, cutting her off; Fanny flinched at the sharp tone. "Already I'm getting numerous complaints from the other operatives about these petty _spats_ between you and Numbuh 1! With the recent increase in attacks by the combined forces of Father, the Delightful Children AND the Teen Ninjas, this is the kind of disruption we can ill afford! And do you know how much it costs to replace those damaged pieces of furniture?!"

Despite herself Fanny couldn't help but bristle. _Petty_ spats?! Why couldn't Numbuh 362 see Numbuh 1 for the arrogant, stupid _boy_ that he was? For that matter, why couldn't she see that the constant bickering between Fanny and the bald Brit was the reason the morale of the Kids Next Door was at an all-time high? The secret behind the organization's success, the reason they even survived the recent attacks, their many victories and their incredible efficiency was in her expressing her anger towards Numbuh 1 by destroying inanimate and not-so-inanimate objects!

"Thus, after a very long discussion with the bureaucracy," Rachel was saying, "I have decided to send you to Anger Management classes."

Fanny stared at Rachel, her mouth hanging open. She wasn't sure she'd heard right. "_What?!_"

"You heard me, soldier," said Rachel. "It seems that after my many warnings, you still have problems controlling your temper."

"I DO _NOT_ HAVE PROBLEMS CONTROLLING MY TEMPER!!" Fanny, losing her clarity for a moment, decided to prove her point by slamming her fist on the section of the desk in front of her – which promptly _splintered_ into matchwood under the sheer force.

Outside several operatives, alerted by the sound, made sure to give the area around it a wide berth.

There was a VERY awkward silence back in the office. "Numbuh 362, I'm so sorry – I didn't mean –"

Rachel simply crossed her arms, as though Fanny's desk-smashing was an everyday occurrence – which in fact wasn't very far from the truth – and gave her a pointed look. "I rest my case."

"But – but – but… why am _I_ the only one going?!" Fanny spluttered. "Numbuh 1 was involved in it as well, why isn't _he_ going as well?"

For a moment a look of embarrassment flickered on Rachel's face, before it returned to her usual stern expression. "Numbuh 1 has other, more urgent matters to attend to."

_Chyeah right, you probably don't want to involve him because you_ like _him,_ Fanny thought. _Don't think I haven't noticed; I know you keep doodling your notebook with '_Mrs. Rachel Mackenzie-Uno_' surrounded by little hearts and Cupids during class, the way you keep looking dreamily at that heart-shaped photo of him that is currently sitting on your desk –_

Her thoughts were interrupted when Rachel continued. "Anyways, you are to report to the Kids Next Door Chill-Out Dude Psychotherapeutic Center in Wyoming, this coming Wednesday, at 0845 hours. And don't even _think_ of bailing, Numbuh 86," she added on an ominous note, "Because if you do, I will know. And you'll find yourself demoted and re-assigned to janitorial duty at Global Command faster than you can decommission a thirteen-year old operative. Do I make myself clear?"

At that moment Fanny's instincts were screaming at her to flat-out reject it, but the logical part of her mind kicked in, reminding her that the consequences were too horrendous to even think about it. It was either Anger Management sessions or mop floors in dirty overalls for the rest of her time in the Kids Next Door, while Nigel Uno and his band of _misfits_ showed off to the entire world. It didn't take her long to come to a decision.

"Yes, ma'am; crystal clear," she muttered.

"Good. You are dismissed," replied Rachel. "If you have any questions, feel free to ask Numbuh 65.3; he'll be more than willing to accommodate."

Fanny saluted stiffly, and turned to leave. As the doors were closing Rachel called out, "Oh, and one more thing; would you mind footing the repair bill for this table for me? I'd be very much obliged if you did."

**-XXX-**

Wednesday soon came, and it was with great…reluctance (which was putting it very mildly)…that Fanny found herself in the hangar, awaiting her flight to Wyoming. Her grip on the handle of her suitcase was tighter than a boa constrictor's; she was surprised it hadn't snapped yet.

Patton smirked, giving her a mock-salute. "Hope you actually learn something in there, Numbuh 86."

"We'll make sure –"

"– Numbuh 1 doesn't show off _too_ much," the Numbuh 44 twins stated.

"Don't forget to bring your Rainbow Monkey blankie, Sis," Paddy managed to blurt out between hysterical laughter, while clapping Fanny on the shoulder.

A vein was twitching violently in Fanny's temple; privately she wondered if reducing her brother and fellow operatives to spending the rest of their lives in wheelchairs would worsen her punishment. After concluding that it would – not to mention the massive tongue-lashing she'd receive from her parents and Numbuh 362 – she scowled and shook off Paddy's hand.

A few minutes later the C.O.O.L.B.U.S. was ready, and Fanny was ready to board when Mr. Perfect, the Grand Poobah, the Supreme Leader's Pet himself entered the hangar. With a tight smile on his face Nigel offered his hand in a handshake.

"Drop the act, Numbuh 1," Fanny spat, giving him one of her patented Looks of Death™, "Numbuh 362 isn't here; there's no need for you to show off." With that she stomped up the ramp that led to the C.O.O.L.B.U.S.

Halfway up she stopped, as she felt herself being stared at. The newbie male operatives that were supposed to accompany her shrank back in fear as she turned her gaze to them. Now, 'being stared at' was among the first things on Fanny's mile-long taboo list, and so in response she snarled at them. "What're _you_ looking at?!"

After one final glare that promised eternal pain at her comrades' irritating faces Fanny entered the C.O.O.L.B.U.S., slamming the hatch behind her. She then tossed her suitcase at the nearest available seat and patiently (as if) awaited her doom.

Perhaps if she took a nap, she would somehow wake up and find that it was all just a really bad dream.

**-XXX-**

"You wake her up."

"No, _you_ wake her up!"

"No, you!"

"_You!_"

"All right, fine, let's settle this with scissors-paper-stone, okay?"

"Okay. Scissors…"

"…Paper…"

"…Stone! Aagh! What the crud? You cheated!!"

"_WILL THE TWO OF YOU SHADDUP?!_" Fanny roared as her eyes snapped open. Honestly, did she have some kind of contagious disease? _Why_ was everyone so frightened to do even a simple matter like waking her up? Rubbing the matter from her eyes she glared daggers at the two, who were looking at her with deer-in-headlights expressions. "What do you stupid boys want?" she demanded grumpily.

"W-w-w-we'll be a-a-arriving at Wy-Wyoming in se-se-se-seven minutes, Num-Numbuh E-Eighty-si-i-i-ix, m-m-ma'a-a-a-m…" One of them whimpered, trembling so much that Fanny wondered why he hadn't wet his pants yet. The other one simply nodded feverishly, too busy wringing his shirt into a wrinkled mess with his hands.

_Crud, it's not a dream._ Fanny gave a snarl in reply, and with a squeak of fright the two operatives were off like a shot, having accomplished their life-threatening mission. She stared at their retreating backs. "Is my face _really_ that scary?" she muttered dryly.

Seven minutes to doom – and counting.

Fanny let out a 'tch' in frustration. Herbie had told her that she needed to fill 120 hours in the psychotherapeutic center – a grand total of five days. Oh, _glorious_ day. 120 hours: 7200 minutes or 432,000 seconds of deep breathing, calming herself, counting from one to one hundred, massive doses of yogurt ("…or was it yoga? Oh, whatever."), no phone calls, no random outbursts of rage and threats of bodily harm at stupid, imbecilic and incompetent boys, no causing serious-if-not-permanent damage to their hearing by shrieking, no furniture-destroying, no locker-bashing, no Numbuh 1-throttling, no door-kicking…

In other words, 120 hours of endless torture.

And it started right about…

"Attention passengers, we have reached Wyoming; preparing for touchdown."

…Now.

**-XXX-**

(Kids Next Door Chill-Out Dude Psychotherapeutic Center, Day 01)

After a quick tour of the facilities, Fanny and the rest of her 'classmates' were immediately ushered away to the conference hall, where a brown-haired, bespectacled girl about eleven awaited.

"Hello, everyone. Welcome to Anger Management class," the nauseatingly sweet and calm voice of the instructor greeted them, a syrupy serene smile on her face. "My name is Numbuh 78.956 and for the next five days, I will be teaching you how to control your temper." She gave the occupants an encouraging smile. "Now, why don't we introduce ourselves? Tell us your codename and the reason that you're here. Remember, the first step is _acknowledging_ you have a problem."

They were at present all seated in a circle, and the operative on Numbuh 78.956's right, a girl about twelve, immediately stood up. "Hi! My name is Numbuh 27!" she announced in a perky voice. With her ridiculously long blonde hair which fell around her shoulders, she could easily pass for Hannah Montana's long-lost sister, which she probably was. "But you can, like, call me Gwenny, tee hee!" she giggled. "You won't believe it, but I'm actually here for, like, Anger Management classes!!"

And with the way she talked, it was evident that she had nothing between her ears but empty air. Heck, she made even _Kuki Sanban_ look like a brooding, angst-ridden protagonist/anti-hero from some anime.

_Like, _what_ a surprise,_ Fanny thought sarcastically. Everyone, with the possible exception of Numbuh 78.956, was here for Anger Management. Really, saying it aloud was a total waste of saliva. With that, Fanny concluded that Numbuh 78.956 was as absurd as she looked.

The one sitting next to 'Gwenny' (the most ridiculous nickname to ever grace her ears, in Fanny's humble opinion), a black-haired boy about nine, stood up rather shakily and flashed them an anxious smile. "H-hello," he stammered. "I-I'm Numbuh 14.8." He gave a nervous laugh. "I'm h-here to l-learn how to c-control my t-temper."

"What a, like, co-winky-dink!!" 'Gwenny' chirped giddily.

Fanny watched sourly as the others followed suit and introduced themselves, each one as dim-witted and air-headed as the one before them. Some looked like they didn't even have an idea what they were even _there_ for. Some looked like they didn't even need Anger Management (like Numbuh 14.8 and 'Gwenny', for example).

She rolled her eyes at the utter _stupidity_ of it all. It was like being back in preschool, before the Kids Next Door, where all the teachers were oozing with sweetness and serenity. Others were quickly won over by their supposed 'charming' and 'gentle' nature, instantly opening up to them and revealing all their deepest, most darkest secrets. Frankly, they made her stomach turn.

Before she knew it, it was her turn to make a fool out of herself. _No way, José,_ she thought grumpily. She crossed her arms and scowled. "Numbuh 86," she muttered simply. Numbuh 78.956 gave her a look that clearly said she should divulge more but she ignored it.

"Why are you here, Numbuh 86?" Numbuh 78.956 asked pleasantly – yet pointedly.

Fanny smiled sardonically. "Oh gee, I don't know. Maybe I'm here for Anger Management classes." Her smile was replaced with a feral snarl. "Like everyone else here in this stupid, _cruddy_ room!!"

She wished she had a video camera right now, for their reactions were priceless. Numbuh 78.956 gasped. Numbuh 14.8 fell from his chair. The cheery smile was instantly wiped off of Numbuh 27's equally cheery face. The others either frowned at her or stared at her in awe. When Numbuh 78.956 finally managed to regain her composure, she clucked her tongue disapprovingly.

"You clearly have some issues with controlling your temper, Numbuh 86," she stated.

Fanny sneered. "Ya _think_?" she retorted. Honestly, why _else_ would she be there wasting her time if she didn't have a problem in the first place? "Look, could we get this over with? I don't want to be here any longer than I have to."

"All right then. Let's talk, Numbuh 86," Numbuh 78.956 said, brushing the bangs out of her eyes. "What makes you angry?"

"Let's see… the list is pretty long," Fanny answered mockingly. "However, just to give you an idea, it's a tie between stupidity, boys in general and Numbuh 1 for first place." She gave Numbuh 78.956 a pointed look. "And I think I've just found another _contender_. But it's a pretty hard choice since the _contender_ –" (another pointed look) "– can easily fall under the category of 'stupidity'."

The sound of crickets chirping could be heard in the background as the others stared in shock/awe/disbelief at Fanny.

Numbuh 78.956 gave her a tight smile and finally broke the silence. "I think you need some time-out, Numbuh 86."

**-XXX-**

(Day 02)

On the whiteboard, the word 'ANGER' was written in big, bold letters. "Remember this, class: with 'anger' comes 'danger'." And then, Numbuh 78.956 proceeded to put a big letter 'D' in front of the previously written word.

Gwenny clapped her hands in awe. "Oh, that's so, like, true!" she chirped.

"Would you like to share your story, Gwenny?"

Fanny scoffed. _By Numbuh Zero's glasses! The girl is practically foaming at the mouth and she asks her if she would _like_ to gossip? Well, congratulations to you, Commander Numbuh Obvious of Sector Obvious, for stating THAT!_

Just as Fanny predicted, the perky pest nodded animatedly and immediately plunged on. "Like, I got angry at my ex-best friend because she, like, stole my boyfriend." Her voice broke dramatically. "I know, it's soooooo sad, right? Anyway, I got, like, _really_ mad at her and, like, scratched her face! And it, like, resulted in my nail getting broken." She sniffed, exaggeratingly wiggling the finger of her right hand in front of all of them to see. "Look."

The sound of crickets chirping in the background could be heard once more.

Until a sarcastic, Irish-accented voice broke it, that is. "That… is by far the _stupidest_ thing I've ever heard in my entire life! So getting angry is a danger to your nails, big deal!"

"What did you, like, just say?" Gwenny hissed, eyes narrowing dangerously at Fanny.

"Are you so much of an idiot that simple words can't get through your absurdly thick hair? And I thought boys were dumb."

"Now, Gwenny, don't let her provoke you!" Numbuh 78.956 warned anxiously. She was already standing up and mentally bracing herself for what was sure to come.

The Hannah Montana-wannabe glared at Fanny… and promptly burst into tears. "She said my hair was, like, thick!" she wailed. Then, she snarled and flexed her other unbroken and sharp claws – I mean fingernails. "Like, say goodbye to your pretty face, little girl!"

Numbuh 78.956 was waving her hands frantically, trying to prevent the inevitable catfight. The others quickly cleared a path, not wanting to get in between the now-rabid girl and the red-haired feminist.

Gwenny lunged at her and Fanny, with her lightning-quick reflexes, got up and side-stepped out of the way. With a smirk the ten-year old stuck out a foot, and thus tripped the other girl.

It was just too bad that right behind where Fanny sat, was a concrete wall three feet thick.

Needless to say, Fanny got 'time-out' once again.

And Gwenny, like, broke her nose.

Yep, with 'anger' comes 'danger', all right.

**-XXX-**

(Day 03)

Fanny couldn't believe it, but she was actually having fun at the psychotherapeutic center. Who said that Anger Management classes were a pain in the neck? It turned out not to be the perfect punishment that she had envisioned, but the perfect vacation!

The red-haired girl had to give Rachel credit; only two days in the psychotherapeutic center and she felt like a gazillion bucks! She now smiled more often, and the scowl on her face diminished to be replaced by a radiant glow, making her look prettier than before. She was having the time of her life annoying the heck out of Numbuh 78.956. It served as the perfect outlet for her frustrations.

And, the best part of it all was that that infuriating Nigel wasn't there to bust her chops.

"Now that we know what makes us angry, how do we usually react when we get angry?" Numbuh 78.956 asked; her voice, while still sickeningly sweet and gentle, was now a little strained as well.

Fanny shot Gwenny a look that would've felled a Citizombie. "Some act even more stupid than usual and break their noses."

Numbuh 78.956 sighed.

Gwenny burst into tears.

Fanny got time-out yet _again_.

And all was right with the world.

**-XXX-**

(Day 04)

"We have to find different ways of expressing our anger," Numbuh 78.956 advised to the room at large, her voice a little higher than normal. "Let's take…" her gaze fell on Fanny and she quickly averted her gaze, "Numbuh 14.8, for example."

Numbuh 14.8 let out a squeak and sank lower into his seat.

"How do you usually act when you lose your temper, Numbuh 14.8?"

The black-haired boy twiddled his thumbs nervously, and his eyes flitted from face to face. "I, well, I – er…" Numbuh 78.956 gave him an encouraging look. "IsortofsetsomeoneonfirewhenIgetangry," he blurted out in a rush.

"Pardon? Could you speak more slowly? We didn't quite catch that."

Numbuh 14.8 took a deep breath and spoke slowly this time around. "I sort of set someone on fire when I get angry."

The smile froze on Numbuh 78.956's face and after realization finally sank in, she began to inch away from Numbuh 14.8. There was the sound of scraping chairs as the others followed suit, scared of the timid boy squeaking nervously in front of them. "…Really now?" said Numbuh 78.956, gulping, "Just out of curiosity, what ticks you off, Numbuh 14.8?"

For once, Fanny wisely chose to keep her mouth shut.

But after the threat had passed (after Security had carted Numbuh 14.8 to the KND Arctic Prison bound and gagged, that is), Fanny insulted another patient – which resulted in a fistfight… and a few injuries.

Needless to say, she got 'time-out' once more.

**-XXX-**

(Day 05)

Finally, the day that Fanny had been waiting for! The last day of Anger Management class! Now, don't get her wrong, she was still getting a kick out of pushing Numbuh 78.956's buttons, but frankly, she missed the Lunar Base and the Kids Next Door. She missed her Decommissioning Squad, Rachel's stern, no-nonsense Supreme Leader attitude, the Numbuh 44 twins' shenanigans and habit of finishing each others' sentences, Paddy's wisecracks, Patton's cocky smirks and Nigel's…

Nah. She didn't miss Nigel.

At _all._

…Okay, maybe just a teensy-weensy bit.

But anyway… today was the day that she would finally pull out the big guns, forcing Numbuh 78.956 to _crack._ She had everything planned out beforehand and just a few carefully-selected words would make it all happen. Fanny watched as Numbuh 78.956 entered the room. There was a bounce to her every step – she was obviously back to her normal, irritating self.

"Now class, this is the last day of our Anger Management session and I would just like to say that –"

"_Hem, hem_," Fanny cleared her throat in a perfect rendition of Dolores Umbridge, effectively interrupting her. Numbuh 78.956 gave her a forced smile that made her look like her stomach was full of gas.

"Yes, Numbuh 86?" she hissed through clenched teeth.

Pulling out a sheath of papers Fanny put on a mask of solemnity. "Actually, I'll be staying here for another month. The director has stated that I have made little to no progress at all, and would like you to continue counseling me."

The smile on Numbuh 78.956's face froze and Fanny thought that the other girl's face would shatter under the pressure. Finally, Numbuh 78.956 raised a shaky finger. "Excuse me for a minute." And then, she stomped out of the room, turning left – clearly heading towards the director's office.

After a few minutes, they heard the sound of a door slamming, followed by the high-pitched screams of a boy – the director, Fanny presumed – in terror and pain, objects breaking and the bloodcurdling shrieks of a banshee.

Fanny grinned evilly. "Good riddance."

The papers were fake, of course; she had planned it all, deciding that it was the only thing that could make the girl break. What a perfect way to end her 'vacation'!

The others were murmuring amongst themselves, and grabbing her discharge papers from Numbuh 78.956's desk Fanny took her suitcase and strode out the door, passing the director's office just in time to hear a resounding crash and a cry of "NO!! ANYTHING BUT THE FACE!!"

"_I feel pretty… oh so pretty… I feel pret-ty and wit-ty and briiiight…_" Fanny sang under her breath, feeling much more cheerful than she had been over the past few days.

"Numbuh 86!" a voice called out. Turning around Fanny saw to her surprise a familiar _ushanka_-wearing boy and blonde pigtailed girl waving at her: Lee and Sonya.

"Numbuh 83? Numbuh 84?" greeted Fanny, as the two approached her. "What're the two of you doing here? Don't tell me it's for Anger Management as well."

"Nah," Lee shook his head. "I'm accompanying Numbuh 83 for her nyctophobia counseling sessions."

* * *

Author's Notes

Tired of writing KND fiction? Moi?? _Never!!_

Anyway…I'm not sure if Nigel and Fanny have ever been in dog-and-cat fights before in canon, but it'd be pretty funny if they did.

Nyctophobia (also known as scotophobia or lygophobia) is the scientific term for the fear of the dark.

"By Numbuh Zero's glasses!" I thought that would make a pretty good exclamation for KND operatives, seeing that he's a legend and all.

'I Feel Pretty' belongs to _West Side Story_.

As to some of the characters' rather broad vocabulary, well… we're talking about kids who act like Marines here.

With that aside, please tell me what you think.


End file.
